


Spoils of War

by Lady_Arkena



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bottom Thorin, M/M, Top Dwalin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-23 19:46:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arkena/pseuds/Lady_Arkena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where dwarves live in clans and are almost constantly at war at each other. One day, warrior!Dwalin fights against princeling!Thorin and is so fascinated that he decides to keep him. </p>
<p>Fill for a prompt from livejournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Victory and Defeat

**Author's Note:**

> Hallo there :)  
> This is my first fanfiction that I post on A3O. I'm not a native speaker, so please be kind. Of course comments and criticism are always welcome. A lot of thanks go to my beta Anchanee. Thank you so much love ;)
> 
> You can find the prompt here: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/2235.html?thread=2327995

**Chapter 1: Victory and Defeat**

  
Dwalin paced over the battle field, surrounded by his guards. His clan had fought long and hard, and they had prevailed. He smirked, watching the sparkling colours of the jewel he held in his hand. The Arkenstone of Thror shone like a fiery rainbow. But he wouldn’t fall for its beauty, like Durin’s heirs. No, the house of Fundin was stronger than their mad relatives.

  
But the cursed rock would help his brother Balin to defeat their enemies once and for all. Now Thror had to accept their humiliating terms, when the old dwarf wanted peace. His father had dreamed of this day ever since his banishment from the clan of Durin, had handed down his desire of vengeance to his sons. Sadly Fundin couldn’t witness their victory, because he had died years ago.

  
Suddenly Dwalin heard screams. He frowned. What in Mahal’s name was going on? Most warriors of Thror’s clan were dead or captivated. Just a few had been able to flee. He stowed the Arkenstone away safely and gestured his guards to follow him.

  
What they found astonished him. Four of his soldiers tried to disarm one single opponent. The operative word was trying. The young warrior was almost as tall as Dwalin. He fought with a sword in his right and an axe in his left hand, fiercely defending a golden haired female dwarf, who crowded two little ones into a corner to keep them away from the fight.

  
Dwalin frowned when he noticing the dark stain on her skirt. Her leg was wounded, but she held a short sword, shielding her children with her body. He growled and stepped into the fight. This was his family's victory. Nobody would spoil it, especially not such a young lad, a mere dwarfling.

  
Their weapons met each other again and again, a wild and deadly dance. Dwalin had to admit that his enemy knew how to fight, his desperation sustaining him furthermore despite his sinking strength. But in the end it wasn't enough and the warrior pinned him to the ground. Crystal blue eyes stared up at him, afraid but at the same time full of an icy fire.

  
When his guards approached the female dwarf, she gripped her sword tighter and his captive started to struggled again. He seemed even more desperate and panted, half begging and half commanding, “Let them be! They are no danger to you. Kill me, if you want to, but let them go!”

  
Dwalin frowned and pensively looked at the small group. The dwarflings, a golden and a dark haired one, were almost hidden behind their mother. They watched him with fearful and pleading eyes, their cheeks wet from their tears. The fair haired boy sobbed a stifled “Uncle” and suddenly the warrior realised who exactly he had captivated. Why hadn't he seen it before?

  
“Lady Dís, I'm Dwalin, son of Fundin. You and your sons will come with me. You are under my personal protection. Nobody will hurt you or your children. I swear on my father's tomb,” he promised and waited for the princess' decision. His captive had stopped his struggles, but he didn't know whether he was just too exhausted or had finally admitted defeat.

  
“What of my brother?” she asked calmly, but with a slight quiver in her voice.

  
“He fought against me and lost. Therefore his life is rightfully mine now. But I won't hurt him, if he is a good boy ... if he understands that he serves the sons of Fundin now,” Dwalin answered. He never beat around the bush, preferring the blank truth. Balin was the diplomat not he.  
“Don't get your hopes up too soon. I bring ill luck,” the young warrior hissed.

  
Every dwarf knew the story of Thorin, the youngest grandson of Thror. The clan of Durin was famous for their golden strands. But the princeling's hair was as dark as the night. It had been said, at the day of his birth, that he would be the beginning of his clan's end.

  
But Dwalin only shook his head and smirked, “Not you, young princeling. No dwarfling is responsible for his clan's fate. His leader is! And we both know what Thror's real curse is. He is obsessed with the Arkenstone. It will be his doom, not you ... to be more precise: the damn jewel and my brother.”

  
~ ◊ ~

  
Balin stared at the Arkenstone, his face an emotionless mask. Dwalin waited. He knew not to haste his brother. What to do with this damned jewel had to be planned thoroughly.

  
After a few minutes he asked, “Are you sure that it was Frerin you have killed?”

  
“Yes,” Dwalin nodded. “Frerin and Hegli, Lady Dís' brother and husband. They both died trying to defend the cursed stone.”  
“And you have captured Lady Dís, her two sons and Prince Thorin?” Balin ascertained again.

  
The warrior raised one eyebrow. “Yes, they are here and stand under my protection. Why do you ask the same questions again and again?”

  
“Because it is important,” his brother replied, pacing back and forth in the tent. “We defeated Thror on the battle field, but this is not enough. We have to destroy him completely. We promised our father on his deathbed.”

  
“So what do you want to do?” Dwalin wanted to know.

  
The older dwarf smirked, with unforgiving eyes, “We will let him choose ... his kin or the Arkenstone ... Then everybody will see that he favours a rock over his own family. Nobody will follow a gold-sick leader.”

  
For a short moment the warrior just gaped at his brother's ingenuity, before he growled, “And Lady Dís and the princes? What do you plan for them? I swore that nobody would hurt them.”

  
“Do you think me so short-sightedly? I want to destroy Thror, not innocent dwarflings!” Balin growled back. “You said Dís and Thorin are close?”

  
“Most likely. The princeling fought like a berserker to defend her and the children. And you know the stories about how he grew up as well as I do. Thror hates him and has let him feel it all his life. His big brother Frerin wasn't much better, just as cruel and short-sighted as his leader. But what do you expect? He was raised by his grandfather after all.

  
“And Lady Dís?! Thror practically sold her to Hegli, because the old fool needed an army. They tell stories about him, too. One of our maidens, who helped the princess with her bath, saw her bruises; old and new ones. When I told her about her husband's death she kept a straight face, but I could swear that her sons looked almost relieved. They also have bruises, the dwarflings, Balin!” Dwalin raged, his face full of concern and disgust.

  
His brother smiled. “You like them ... and especially the young prince. Don't deny it. I know you prefer male company in bed. And don't look like a kicked puppy, baby brother. I'm not scolding you. I myself find a good book and a lucrative business more satisfying than a wife and conjugal duties.”

  
“And what about heirs? I always thought you wanted me to ...” the warrior began, but suddenly he knew it, “... the boys! You want to raise Dís' sons as our heirs.”

  
“Yes, of course. We are distant relatives after all. You also will take Thorin as your mate,” Balin stated matter-of-factly.

  
“WHAT??? You can't be serious. He will never agree. He doesn't even like me.” Dwalin stared angrily. “And don't say that this isn't important. It is for me. I will not rape him!”

  
“Who said you have to?” the older dwarf asked. “Thorin is young and hungers for love and affection. It shouldn't be a problem for you to seduce him, even publicly.

His merag mahzâyung (= feast to make love [When a young dwarf comes of age, an older and more experienced lover deflowers him or her in private.]) has to have been a while ago. Yet I doubt that he had many lovers.”

  
The warrior shook his head, “This isn't right. He deserves better than an act. I won't decoy him.”

  
Balin smiled again, affectionately touching Dwalin's shoulder. “My dear brother, I saw how you look at him. It wouldn't be an act. You are already smitten with him and in a week's time you will be madly in love. Believe me it will be good for both of you.”

  
“I'm not smitten with ...” the tall dwarf began, but then he remembered their fight and Thorin's powerful yet cat-like movements despite his exhaustion. He could still feel the lean, hard body beneath his own. How would it be to have the prince on soft furs ... without any clothes? They could dance again, but it would be a dance of passion and not of violence.

  
A low laugh brought him back to reality. His cheeks burned when he met the knowing eyes of his brother. Damn him. He growled, but Balin only laughed louder, proving that he sometimes knew his little brother better than Dwalin knew himself.

  
~ ◊ ~

  
They met under the nightly sky. Many fires illuminated the surroundings. Thror came with a hand full of guards, the only ones remaining. His silver beard and hair shone like the moon above and his eyes glittered with madness. He stared at the sons of Fundin, ignoring his captured kin and people, who were about to witness his downfall.

  
”Let's get over with it,” he snarled.

  
Balin nodded, declaring in a clear and strong voice, “You're clan is defeated. Your heirs are dead or have been captured. All your treasures are ours. But we aren't cruel or vicious. We will allow you and anybody who wants to follow you, to leave in peace. We will even give you and your clan ponies and supplies for a few days,” he stopped and smiled confidently. “We will also return one of your treasures to you. Just choose! Do you want your family or this?”

  
The Arkenstone sparkled even brighter than the moon and the fires together, when Balin lifted him for all to see, a whirlwind of colours and light. Thror couldn't avert his eyes from the jewel, their mad glint was even intensified.

  
He whispered, “My treasure. My beautiful ghivashel (= treasure of all treasures). Give it to me.”

  
“So you choose the stone over your kin? You abandon your own heirs in favour of a gem?” Balin made sure.

  
“Let them go, keep them or even kill them. It doesn't matter to me.” Thror's face contorted with disgust when he looked upon his grandchildren and the two dwarflings.

  
But then his eyes found the Arkenstone again and he murmured beguiled, “Just give me my treasure, my beloved jewel.”

  
Dwalin watched the sickening spectacle only casually. He concentrated on Thorin, who was flanked by two of the strongest fighters of the Fundin-clan. His hands were tied up and he wore a simple tunic, trousers and boots, nothing like the royal garments he had fought in.

  
Obviously the princeling wasn't surprised by his grandfather's choice. He showed his pain and desperation just for a short moment, looking vulnerable and even younger.

  
It was deadly silent when Thror took the Arkenstone and a bag with the promised supplies. He only stared in awe at the sparkling jewel in his hand, when he slowly went back. He didn't wait for any possible followers and ignored the waiting pony. He disappeared alone into the night. Nobody wanted to go with him.

  
As soon as he was gone, Balin raised his voice again. He offered the captivated dwarves a new home under the protection of the house of Fundin. When he named Dis' sons his heirs, many of those present couldn't believe their ears. Usually the victorious clan didn't show so much generosity to the defeated.

  
But their doubts melted away at the sight of the young and sweet dwarfling, who stood shyly beside their mother. Their big, innocent eyes enchanted any dwarf, especially those who had just lost everything due to their leaders madness. They would unite both clans in the end.

  
Then his brother declared Dwalin's “wish” to bond with Thorin publicly, to strengthen the alliance between the two clans even more.  
There was a breathless silence, when the tall warrior slowly approached the tied princeling.

  
Yet Dwalin ignored all the other dwarves. He closely watched the reaction of his intended ... which was as bad as he had feared, if not worse. Damn his brother and his optimism.

  
After the first shock Thorin reacted much faster than anybody he knew. He brought down one guard with a fast rotation of his body and a well-aimed strike to the dwarf's unprotected side. The other made the acquaintance with the prince's heavy boot, holding his bloody nose a moment later.

  
But his victory was short lived. Other soldiers came to their comrades' aid and soon Thorin was pinned to the ground and immobilised by too many hands to fight them off. But he struggled nonetheless, almost panicked in his attempt to flee.

  
Suddenly Dís appeared by his side, pleading softly, “Please brother, stop it. Dwalin won't hurt you. He promised me.”

  
“You know?! You sold me out!” The prince looked at his sister with shocked eyes. He couldn't believe that his only support had betrayed him. But a mother would always choose her children over anybody else, he should have known that. Loving Fíli and Kíli as much as Dís, he could even understand her. But it hurt anyway.

  
The female dwarf shook her head sadly. “I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. It will be all right, I promise. You will like it. You were also worried before your first time with Kerlan, but then you enjoyed it. Remember you are a prince of Durin's line. It is your responsibility. You have to carry out your duties.”

  
When she mentioned his first lover, Thorin blushed and stopped his struggles. Dwalin was surprised to see only pain swiftly followed by utter defeat in these brilliant blue orbs. “Fine, he can have me,” he murmured brokenly and met the warrior's gaze. “Hurry up and claim your prize then,” he chocked.

  
“Please, don't do this,” a voice from the crowd interfered. A red haired officer stepped forward, clearly shattered by the turns of events. “He never ...”

  
“Shut up!” Thorin hissed and glared angrily at him.

  
Dwalin had only watched so far, unsure of what to do. He didn't want to rape his intended and he sensed that there was more behind the princeling's resistance than mere pride.

  
“Who are you?” he asked the newcomer.

  
“I am Kerlan and I ... I never slept with him,” he answered and then looked away, clearly ashamed of himself.

  
“What? But you volunteered ... and you spent the night with him,” Dís said in confusion.

  
Kerlan shook his head and explained, “It was Frerin's idea all along. He said it would disgrace his family, if they had to buy him a human whore, because no dwarf would touch him. He knew that I prefer to be the ... the bottom and forced me to volunteer. When Thorin and I came to our prepared room, Frerin already waited for us and overwhelmed his brother, tying him to a chair. Then he took me and all the while he said that we did Thorin a favour that he could watch us together. It would be the only time that he would come into touch with sex anyway. I'm sorry. I know it was wrong, but ...”

  
“... but you were afraid and thought nobody would learn of what you two have done,” Dwalin finished the sentence for him.

  
He met his brother eyes and even Balin seemed at loss of what to say or do. This was a total mess. The warrior couldn't claim his mate publicly under such circumstances. It would have been difficult enough with a reluctant but experienced partner.

  
But a virgin? Impossible! Nobody should be deflowered in public.

  
Dwalin sighed and ordered the guards, “Bring the prince to my tent and make sure he stays there.”

  
“What do you plan to do, brother?” Balin worried, when three dwarves took Thorin away.

  
“To make things right. At least so far as it is possible,” the warrior replied.


	2. Merag mahzâyung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin claims his intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely comments and kudos and bookmarks and ... I really got over 350 hits so far. *grins*  
> Now here comes one of the smutty chapters. I hope you enjoy it as much as my other chapter.

**Chapter 2: Merag mahzâyung**

  
When Dwalin entered his tent, Thorin was alone. The guards had tied him with his hands high above his head to the big wooden stake in the middle of his temporary home. He missed the comfortable halls of his clan ... and his own bed.

  
It would be more proper for a virgin like his princeling, who stared at him defiantly yet afraid with unshed tears in his eyes. They shone even more brilliantly that way and the warrior had to control himself. It wouldn't help the situation, if he kissed the dwarf senseless.

  
He poured a cup of water and asked, “Are you thirsty?”

  
Thorin growled stubbornly, “Just get over with it. I know what will happen. I was allowed to watch after all. So just do it.”

  
He was determined to do his duty. He was a prince after all and princes didn't cry or beg not to be raped. He would do whatever his captivator wanted. He wasn't weak, no matter what his grandfather had said about him all his life.

  
Dwalin slowly approached him, the water forgotten. “You know nothing, princeling. But I can show you, if you want to ... if you allow me,” he murmured, gently caressing the other dwarf's face.

  
“Since when does the master need permission from the slave?” his captive replied bitterly.

  
The warrior frowned. “You are no slave, but my intended. I won't rape you.”

  
“So you would let me go ... if I asked you to?” Thorin asked not really convinced.

  
“Would you let go the dwarf, who seems the perfect partner for you?” Dwalin asked back and smiled.

  
The young prince blinked surprised. “What?”

  
“You are gorgeous and I would be a fool to let you go. But I make you a deal. You give me this night to convince you of my feelings. It will be your proper merag mahzâyung. If you still want to go in the morning, I won't detain you.” The older dwarf waited patiently of an answer.

  
After a few moments Thorin bit his bottom lip, clearly confused about the things heard. “But you don't know me. Nobody ever wanted me. I bring ill luck. My grandfather ...”

  
“Thror is a gold-sick idiot, too obsessed with his treasures. He blamed an innocent dwarfling for his own mistakes just because his hair wasn't as golden as he wished for. You bring others as much ill luck as I do,” Dwalin interrupted and gestured to his own dark Mohawk and beard.

  
“I was impressed when I first saw you. Four against one and you let my soldiers look like newbies, holding their weapons for the first time. You defended your kin, not some meaningless gems or gold and you were willing to die for them.

  
“I talked to your sister and she confirmed my opinion. You are intelligent and honourable. You protected your nephews from your grandfather, especially the youngest one with the dark hair. You did everything in your power so that they wouldn’t suffer like you did.

  
“I saw your pain and can just imagine what a shitty hell your life has been so far. I don't know why, but I want to make you happy. You deserve to be happy.” Dwalin finished his little speech. Why had he said all these things? He had meant everything of course, but he hadn't planned to pour out his heart to Thorin.

  
The young dwarf blushed, while he considered the warrior's words, but after a few moments he nodded. “Alright. Show me what you've got,” he said, the challenge obvious.

  
“Be careful, princeling. You're about to bite off more than you can chew.” Dwalin warned with a sly grin, but immediately got serious again. “Have you ever been kissed?” he asked, tenderly tracing Thorin's lips with his thumb.

  
When the other shook his head, he smiled and brushing his mouth over the prince's tempting one. At first the kiss was almost chaste, but Dwalin impatiently intensified it when his lover didn't pull back and coaxed his lips open, savouring the taste.

  
After a moment's hesitation Thorin returned the kiss eagerly. It showed that he was a quick leaner. Soon the dance of their tongues got passionate and the prince moaned in pleasure, pressing his body against the warrior's and tearing at his bonds.

  
“Such a wanton princeling,” the older dwarf chuckled, drinking in the sight of his panting and blushing lover. “You will look so gorgeous on my furs ... naked, sweating and debauched. You will beg me to fuck you, my little virgin.”

  
“I'm a prince. I don't beg,” Thorin said determined, glaring at the warrior. “Untie me. I want to touch you.”

  
“Better not. You could knock me down and flee. And I assure you, you will beg like the four virgins I have had before you,” Dwalin smirked. He caressed the crestfallen face in front of him, when he realised his mishap. “You are my last. I won't entertain other lovers beside my mate.”

  
They kissed again and this time the warrior had to fight hard for his dominance. It was enticing, but he would tame his wild princeling and make him beg for his cock.

  
His left hand ran through the bound dwarf's long, silken strands. He knew from Dís that Thror hadn't allowed his grandson any braids. He would amend it, imagining silver courting beads with sapphires in the dark hair.

  
All the while his right hand deliberately undid the bindings of Thorin's tunic, exposing his collarbones. Dwalin licked and nipped a wet path from the prince's neck to the newly exposed skin, chuckling lowly when his lover purred and mewled. “Are you already considering to beg, my pundurith.” (= cat that is young aka kitten ^^)

  
Thorin pouted, before he finally gave in and pleaded, rubbing his groin against his lover, “Fine, you win. Please Dwalin, untie me. I won't flee, I promise. Please.”

  
The warrior smirked, “Wasn't so bad, was it?” He loosened the ropes and tenderly massaged the reddish skin of the prince's wrists.

  
The younger dwarf smiled, before he spun lightning-fast and threw Dwalin across his shoulder. He grinned from a save distant at his cursing lover. “I only promised not to flee. I never said I wouldn't fight back.

  
“That was a big mistake, princeling,” the warrior growled, picking up the ropes. “Now I have to bind you again.”

  
Thorin laughed, eyes sparkling, “Only if you get me.”

  
Their cat-and-mouse-game began. Dwalin admired the young dwarf's agile movements, his lean, but muscular body. But as much as he enjoyed the prince's playful mood, he had plans for tonight and he would see them through. Finally he cornered his little kitten and held him tight against his chest.

  
“I never had so much fun,” Thorin admitted with a wide grin.

  
“The night isn't over yet, pundurith,” the warrior replied, pulling off his lover's tunic and kissing him passionately. The prince mewled into the kiss and lost himself in its heat. Dwalin smiled confidently, grabbing the wandering hands and tied them up behind his captive's back.

  
“Unfair,” the prince pouted, but the older dwarf smirked, “My victory, my rules.” He lifted his young lover over his shoulder and carried him to his bed of furs and pillows. There he set him down gently and began to take of his boots and socks.

  
Thorin watched him, but he didn't struggle, too curious of what would happen next. When Dwalin deliberately opened the prince's trousers and slowly took them off together with his smallclothes, the young dwarf blushed, but lay still nonetheless.

  
The warrior marvelled at the nude body in front of him. He couldn't believe that this gorgeous being would soon be his. He ran his hands over the hairy chest, the hard stomach and the long legs.

  
“Beautiful,” he whispered and had to control himself not to dash forward to taste the tempting cock, which already twitched in interest.

  
At first he had to teach this little minx some respect. He arranged the flustered prince over his lab, smirking when he heard Thorin's confused noises. “You, my naughty princeling, deserve a punishment, so that you know what will happen when you challenge me.”

  
With a loud smack Dwalin's big hand landed on the round arse in front of him, eliciting a startled yelp from his lover. But already after the second slap the prince stifled all sounds of distress, lying still apart from a light quivering. The warrior smirked. His little virgin wouldn't be silent for long. He playfully hit the pale flesh again and again, just interrupting his spanking to gently scrapping over the sensitive skin with his fingernails.

  
Suddenly Thorin sobbed, “Please, stop it.”

  
Surprised Dwalin opened his arms and watched alarmed when his lover clumsily crawled away from him, curling up at the end of the bed. All his earlier playfulness was gone. The warrior frowned. “Tell me, what's wrong, little one.”

  
“I thought you wanted to punish me, but ...” the younger dwarf whispered, looking ashamed at his leaking erection. “I'm sorry, please don't be angry. I didn't mean to enjoy it.”

  
Dwalin was stunned. “You thought that I would punish you in earnest?” He sighed, when he got a nod as answer. He carefully pulled Thorin back into the middle of the furs and embraced him, caressing the taunt back and sides.

  
“My silly princeling, this was supposed to be pleasurable for you ... I want you to beg, remember?” He smiled mischievously when he traced the underside of his lover's cock, making him purr, despite his earlier distress. “But I meant for you to beg for more ... not to stop. So maybe I have to try something new.”

  
He loosened the bonds and arranged the prince's nude body on his back, until Dwalin lay between the spread and bent legs with his face directly in front of Thorin's groin and arse. He smiled at his blushing lover. “Such an enticing sight. You have a beautiful cock, my little pundurith. Come on, make these wonderful sounds for me again.”

  
Then he slowly ran his tongue over the leaking cock, tasting the precum. Thorin moaned in pleasure, spreading his legs wider to give the warrior better access.

Dwalin chuckled. “Like a cat in heat. Your balls are already throbbing, aren't they. They are so full and heavy.” He fondled them with small licks, tickling the sensitive skin.

  
The prince mewled loudly and arched his spine, presenting himself eagerly. He knew this wasn't the proper behaviour for a prince, blushing in shame because of his own wantonness. But Dwalin's mouth felt so incredible. He closed his eyes, enjoying the agile tongue of his intended ... and opened them wide, when his cheeks were spread. His lover licked his puckered entrance, humming contently.

  
“Stop ... don't ... dirty,” he stammered, his face burned with embarrassment, but he didn't struggle despite his protests.

  
“Really?” the warrior asked innocently, before sucking even stronger. “Not dirty at all. You taste lovely, little princeling and your tight hole loves my tongue. It twitches and pleads to be licked and fucked. I told you, you would beg ... whether with your mouth or with your arse, it doesn't matter to me.”

  
Thorin whimpered and screamed hoarsely, when the warrior began to tongue-fuck him in earnest. This was dirty. This had to be dirty! Frerin hadn't done this to Kerlan. He had just prepared him with his fingers. But maybe only real lovers did this for each other?

  
“Do you ... really ... do you really love me?” the prince panted and sobbed brokenly when Dwalin stopped his ministrations. Their eyes met, one pair full of surprise and in the other a mix of uncertainty, fear and hope.

  
“Balin says it will take a week for me to fall for you. But I think he's wrong. Why should I resist you for a week? I spend my time so much better, when I make love to you again and again,” the older dwarf confessed, crawling slowly higher until his mouth captured his lover's lips.

  
Thorin laughed when the kiss ended. Suddenly he felt light, free and not cursed at all. This wasn't his duty. This was just for him. For the first time in his life something good was happening. He stared in awe at his saviour. “My shomakhâl (= guardian). Please, I'm begging you. Show me everything. Please, I want to ... I need to feel you,” he pleaded, tearing at Dwalin's clothes urgently.

  
The warrior smiled reassuringly. Soon he was naked, too and reached for a vial of oil that stood ready beside their bed.

  
Thorin drank in the sight of his lover. He couldn't avert his eyes from the impressive erection, shyly touching the hot, pulsating flesh. “Will you fit? ... Frerin was much smaller and I ...” he nervously licked his lips.

  
“Yes, I will fit. Don't worry,” Dwalin chuckled. “And don't think about your brother. I killed him and I would do so time and time again for what he did to you.”

  
The prince nodded. It was odd, but he was relieved that Frerin had died, although he had been his brother. No, he never had a brother. A real brother wouldn't have been as cruel as Frerin ...

  
“What did I say, princeling? Stop thinking about him,” the warrior growled, but his face softened immediately, “especially when we are in bed and I'm going to make you mine.” He kissed him, a sweet distraction and Thorin purred into it happily, pressing his body tight against the other and enjoying the wonderful feeling of skin on skin.

  
When Dwalin wanted to gently arrange him on all four, the prince pleaded, “I want to see you, please my shomakhâl.”

  
But the warrior shook his head and murmured, “You can lie on your back the next time, when you are used to my cock, I promise. I don't want to hurt you. It is easier to prepare you this way ... I give you at least three fingers, before my cock goes near your sweet virgin hole.”

  
Thorin moaned lowly, “And I beg for every one of them.” He turned eagerly on all fours and presented his backside, luring his lover with his wriggling arse. He looked over his shoulder and pleaded, “Don't let me wait. Please, I need you.”

  
“Tempting, little minx,” Dwalin chuckled, giving his lover a playful slap. He spread the cheeks in front of him and exposed the tiny entrance. “You look so good, my sweet pundurith. Make your beautiful sounds for me again,” he bided and then he sucked and licked enthusiastically at the twitching hole.

  
His lover mewled and moaned, “Oh yes, yessss suck me ... please more ... feels so ... Mahal, please ... don't stop ... aaahhhh.” All his earlier thoughts about decency were long gone. He wantonly pushed his arse back into Dwalin's face, begging not only with his mouth but his whole body for more.

  
Suddenly the prince felt slippery fingers on his bottom and purred happily, “Hmm, please. I need you in me ... oh god, Dwalin, yeeessssss.”

  
The warrior admired the sight in front of him. It was intoxicating how he could reduce his proud princeling into a whimpering mess, and just because he was rubbing one oily finger over his tiny entrance. The muscle fluttered under him, trying to drag him inside. He grinned, tickling the sensitive skin. “Do you want something, my little virgin,” he asked innocently.

  
“Your finger ... please, oh please ... I need ... I'm begging you, I'm begging just like you wanted ... now please ...” Thorin sobbed. His body was on fire, an all-consuming need burned through him. His cock and balls throbbed so much it almost hurt. His arms couldn't hold him anymore. He fell into the furs and pillows of Dwalin’s improvised bed, desperately bucking his hips for some friction.

  
Dwalin frowned. This was odd. Not one of his other virgins had reacted in such a way. “Calm down, beloved. You will hurt yourself,” he soothed.

  
“Can't ... please, Dwalin ... it hurts, my cock ... please,” the prince wept and screamed hoarsely when the warrior's big hand closed around his leaking erection and stroked it tenderly. Without a warning Thorin came all over the furs under him and his mind went blank for a moment.

  
Dwalin watched his lover's trembling form. “Feeling better, beloved?” he asked worried.

  
“A little, but ...” Thorin panted and whimpered when the soft furs caressed his skin and his cock began to harden again. “What happens to me? Shomakhâl, please.”

  
“I'm here. I make it better. Just relax and let me help you.” the warrior promised and carefully rolled his lover on his side, so that he could face him. The prince's cock was already hard as steel again. Dwalin lowered his mouth over the heavy erection, licking it clean.

  
He used every trick he knew to bring Thorin as much pleasure as possible. He sucked at the tip and tickled the sensitive slit, eliciting new precum for him to savour. Then he took him deeper into his mouth and caressed the underside of his dick, before he concentrated on the tip again.

  
“So good. shomakhâl, yes, more. Please give me ... give me your fingers, too. My hole ... it's so .... empty. Please, fill me up.“ The prince lifted his leg over Dwalin's shoulder, to give him better access to his arse.

  
He mewled, when he felt the warrior's slick finger at his entrance again, massaging and loosening the ring of muscle, until it could slip in. It burned, but only for a few seconds. Then he was distracted by the clever tongue, which fluttered over his slit and sent another wave of pleasure through him. Thorin relaxed his bottom and suddenly the digit was shoved in completely, making him moan and plead for more.

  
Dwalin hummed satisfied, when his lover lost himself in his pleasure, trusting into the willing mouth and at the same time fucking himself on the finger deep inside his tight arse. He reached blindly for the vial and then coated two more fingers in the sweet smelling oil.

  
Finally a second orgasm raged through Thorin and the warrior greedily swallowed the bitter-sweet cum, until the cock lay limply on his tongue. The prince panted. He was exhausted but satisfied and after a few moments he began to purr again.

  
Carefully Dwalin probed the now relaxed hole and when he didn't feel any resistance he shoved two fingers into it. He smiled around his lover's dick, that twitched in interest once more. His little kitten wasn't finished yet and mewled happily, when he was steadily fucked and spread open. The warrior hummed around the hardened cock, but otherwise he concentrated on Thorin's bottom, searching for the small gland.

  
When he finally found it, the younger dwarf screamed hoarsely and begged, “Again, please ... my shomakhâl ... please touch that ... that spot again ... oh yes, yes, just like that. ... Hmmm your fingers ... so good, so good ... please give me more ... another one, please, fuck me with more.”

  
Dwalin growled and let the heavy cock slip from his mouth. Before the prince knew what happened, the warrior had flipped him around with the knees under the stomach and the arse high in the air. If he so desperately pleaded for more, he would get it. He shoved three oily fingers into the stretched hole, feeling just a little resistance from the muscles.

  
He took his lover at a fierce pace, hitting his prostate again and again and reducing him to a whimpering, quivering ball of nerves. His pleas soon turned into wordless screams, every coherent thought had long left the prince's mind. Dwalin stimulated the tight channel merciless and smirked triumphantly, when Thorin fell over the edge for a third time this night.

  
The warrior tenderly nipped at the pale neck, whispering into his lover's ear, “Do you need still more, my wanton, little pundurith.”

  
“Yes. Please,” the prince whimpered, spreading his legs and offering himself. “Take me. Claim me. I'm begging you.”

  
The third orgasm had relaxed the young dwarf completely and Dwalin could slip his cock inside the greedy hole without any resistance. He trusted slowly but steadily at first, enjoying the heat and the tightness around his erection, murmuring softly, “You're perfect, my sweet princeling. I never let you out of my bed again. You are mine, Thorin.”

  
It wasn't long before the warrior increased his pace and after a few forceful trusts he came deep inside of his intended, shouting his name. He crashed down beside his lover, cradling him to his chest and kissing his sweaty forehead.

  
“This was incredible,” Thorin whispered dreamily. “Will it always be like that?”

  
Dwalin chuckled, “I'm afraid not. Usually you can cum only once and then you need some time to regenerate. I suppose you could cum thrice, because you had to wait so long for your merag mahzâyung.”

  
The prince hummed in understanding and snuggled deeper into his lover's embrace. His breathe calmed down and the warrior thought he was asleep. But after a few minutes he heard him whisper, “I would love to bond with you in public as soon as possible, shomakhâl.”

  
The son of Fundin smiled, brushing his lips lovingly over Thorin's. “Then wait here for me, beloved. Rest a bit. I'll be back soon, I promise.”

  
~ ◊ ~

  
He left his tent only dressed in trousers and searched for Balin. He found him surrounded by other dwarves in the middle of their camp. They celebrated their new future, the beginning of one big clan, with food and ale, music and dance. Dwalin gestured his brother to come to him.

  
Before Balin could ask anything, he growled, “No questions now. I need courting beads. I know you have some. You are always prepared.”

  
The older dwarf's smirked, but said nothing. He only lead Dwalin to his tent and showed him eight different sets of courting beads. When he saw the dumbfounded expression of his younger brother, he just shrugged and repeated, “Always prepared, just like you said. So choose! I want to go back to the party and I have a feeling that I also have to organise furs and maybe one or two pillows for you two lovebirds.”

  
The warrior frowned, but kept silent. He grabbed two sets and went back to his little prince. His intended smiled radiantly as soon as he saw the courting beads, mithril with sapphires for Thorin and heavy golden ones for Dwalin.

  
“My first braids,” the younger dwarf whispered in awe, when his lover combed and tamed his mane. The four beads shone beautifully in the dark strands. The warrior's braids were finished a short time later. Then Dwalin wrapped the prince up in a blanket, and lifted him bridal style.

  
“Ready, love?” he asked seriously. “We can still wait.”

  
But Thorin shook his head. “I want to. Please, my shomakhâl, let’s show them that I’m yours ... and you are mine.”

  
When they reached the feast the other dwarves gaped at the two. Nobody had expected them to return this night, especially not so lightly clad. Balin smiled at them and gestured a few of his guards to stretch furs, blankets and pillows near the great fire, where everyone could witness the bonding.

  
Slowly Dwalin carried his intended to the swiftly made bed and lay him down gently. They didn't need to say anything. Every dwarf knew what would happen and why. Thorin shyly dropped his blanket, exposing himself for everyone to see, but he only watched his warrior, who pulled off his trousers.

  
The prince licked his lips in anticipation, his cock twitching at the mere thought of the wonderful feeling of being claimed again. He pulled Dwalin closer and kissed him passionately, moaning into his mouth. Then he lay back, submitting to the older dwarf and offering himself not only as some spoils of war, but as a mate.

  
The warrior licked and kissed the gorgeous body beneath him, savouring the feeling of the well-toned chest under his mouth. He sucked gently at one nipple and pinching the other, eliciting moans and purrs from his lover. Thorin was his and all the dwarves that surrounded them should witness his claim. Soon his little kitten was lost in pleasure and shamelessly begged for his fingers, his mouth, his cock ... just more.

  
Dwalin smirked, while he roughly fucked his lover's arse with three fingers, whispering with a sinful timbre in his voice, “Do you see them? How they can't take their eyes off of you? How they try to hide their hard ons? They want you, Thorin. They realise, what a treasure you are, but it is too late for them. You are mine. My beautiful mate. My sweet pundurith. I'm the only one who will fuck you. Yes show them, that you are mine, how much you want me. Moan and scream for me.”

  
The young dwarf whimpered, when he saw blatant lust and desire in the faces of their audience and it encourage him further. He arched his spine and wantonly presented his body, screaming hoarsely, when Dwalin finally shoved his cock hard and fast into the prince's lose hole. Thorin mewled happily. Like his mate had promised earlier, he was taken on his back, looking up at his warrior.

  
Finally the prince trembled and sobbed through a fourth orgasm, his hot cum covering both their stomachs. But he still panted his pleasure into the nightly sky, enjoying the hard and hot erection.

  
The contractions around his cock and Thorin's lovely sounds were too much for Dwalin. After a few more deep trusts he roared his mate's name and came first inside of his lover, before he slipped free and marked his thighs, too.

  
They lay exhausted beside each other, drinking in each other's sight, kissing and caressing. They had to stay here for the rest of the feast. It was common after a public claiming. But it didn't matter. They remotely heard Balin's words for the music to start again.

  
Dwalin smirked. Maybe he would take his princeling again later that night, sealing the bond between their clans one more time under the witnessing and longing eyes of the other dwarves.


	3. Role play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys experiment :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now my last chapter. Have fun and thank you again for all the wonderful feedback.

**Chapter 3: Role play**

  
Dwalin went through the corridors of their mountain-home. The meeting with his brother was finally over and all he wanted was a relaxing evening with his mate. He smiled tenderly, thinking about Thorin. The once mistrusting and desolated dwarf had turned into a helpful, modest and sincere advisor since they had bonded four months ago.

  
Sometimes his little kitten rejoiced over such an ordinary gesture like an appreciated smile from Balin in their meetings, that the warrior's heart throbbed painfully in his chest. In these moments he cursed the cruelty of Thror, Frerin and all the others, who had hurt his beloved and thanked Mahal for the chance to make things right.

  
Of course a few incorrigible idiots still believed that Thorin would bring ill luck. But their protests faded with each passing day. The majority of their new, merged clan acknowledge his mate's bad reputation for what it was: Utter rubbish. More than one of his princeling's advices had increased the safety of their miners.

  
Finally he arrived at their shared rooms and with a turn of the doorknob he locked his worries and responsibilities out. He loved the evening hours, when Thorin was solely his and he didn't have to share him with Balin, Dís, his little nephews or anybody else.

  
“I'm back, pundurith,” he called and frowned. Usually his little princeling greeted him with a passionate kiss as soon as Dwalin entered, just as eager for their free time as his mate. Where was he? He looked around and noticed a conspicuously positioned piece of parchment on the table. He read the text, written in Thorin's elegant hand.

 

  
 _My dear brother,_

  
_today I brought you a nice, little present to thank you for your hard work during the past few months. His grandfather assured me, that he is untouched and was delighted that we want to look after his merag mahzâyung. He said that the boy isn't very bright and nearly useless in the forge. But maybe you can train him better in the arts of desire and lust. If he doesn't meet your fastidiously wishes, I'm sure we will find an acceptable brothel for him, as we have for the others._

_Enjoy your little present._

  
_Your safe playing brother “Balin”_

 

  
Dwalin licked his lips in anticipation. His little minx was incredible. They had experimented with bondage and spanking until now, but never entertained a role play. He read the text again and smiled when he recognised the hidden message. So “Balin” would be their safeword for the evening.

  
The warrior breathed deeply, before he entered their bedroom ... and gaped at the sight. Thorin lay on their bed, his hands securely tied high above his head. The hand cuffs were fastened to the middle of the bed frame. His hair was plain save for their bonding braids and his eyes shone brightly through heavy black lid lines.

  
For a short moment Dwalin saw his mate's lust in his crystal blue orbs very clearly, before it was replaced with a carefully schooled, fearful expression. The warrior admired the long, pale neck and the beautiful silver collar. The broad chest and stomach of his lover were nude, his nipples already hard, begging for his mouth.

  
A sheer cloth covered his groin loosely, but his cock and balls, decorated with two silver rings at their bases, shone through it nonetheless. The young dwarf tried to cover his genitals with his bare legs and Dwalin got a good view at his round arse. The shackles around his ankles weren't bound to the bed frame, but additional ropes were prepared for him to use.

  
The warrior smirked at his trembling and squirming lover, slowly approaching him like a big cat his prey. All the while he pulled off his heavy outer garments and boots, until he stood only in his tunic and trousers.

  
Thorin whimpered fearfully, “Please milord, let me go. Please, don't hurt me.”

  
Dwalin stretched out alongside of him, smiling satisfied when the younger dwarf tried to move away. “I can't, little beauty. My brother bought you from your grandfather at a high price. You are not my first plaything. He got me at least a handful of virgins over the last years. But I have to say you are the most promising so far.”

  
He gently ran his fingers over his princeling's hairy chest, circling one nipple and went lower over the hard stomach to the sensitive skin inside of his thighs, slowly pulling away the cloth and exposing his princeling before his hungry eyes. Then without warning he clashed his lips to the quivering ones of his lover, ravishing his mouth almost brutally. Thorin yelped into the kiss and struggled even more to get away from him.

  
“Please, don't,” the bound dwarf sobbed, when the kiss ended. “Let me go home, I'm begging you, milord.”

  
“Home?”, Dwalin asked innocently. “I already told you. Your grandfather sold you out. You can't go back to him; he doesn't want you anymore.

  
“That leaves you with two choices. Either you can become my personal little whore. You will be a good boy and do whatever I want, whenever I want it.

  
“Or you keep fighting back and continue to displease me. In this case I will find you a nice brothel and you will become a whore for everybody who pays good coin for the use of your body.”

  
Thorin gulped, looking up pleadingly. The warrior had to control himself to not comfort his lover. To speed up their play he growled, “Choose, now!”

  
The prince winced and whispered, “I want to be a good boy for you, milord.”

  
“Master,” Dwalin growled again and grinned triumphantly, when he heard the broken “I'm a good boy, master.”

  
He kissed the younger dwarf again, enjoying his ‘forced’ acceptance. This game was intoxicating. His hands roamed possessively over the chest and stomach underneath him, pinching the nipples and scraping his fingernails over hard muscles. His mouth followed his nails in quick succession, kissing, sucking and even biting the soft skin.

  
The prince wanted to beg for more almost desperately, but he didn't want to ruin their play, not when his lover liked it so much. He was meant to be a terrified virgin, so he sobbed at the rough ministrations and tried to stifle his screams. It was strange how easily he could empathise with the poor creature, he had invented for his mate's pleasure.

  
The warrior chuckled darkly, “When you need any proof, that you are a natural born whore, just look at your groin, my little beauty. You're getting hard and wanton for me, aren't you? I bet your tight virgin hole is already twitching in anticipation of my cock.”

  
Thorin blushed and looked away in shame, stuttering brokenly, “What ... I don't ... don't understand, master.”

  
“You really are innocent. But don't worry. I will teach you tonight,” Dwalin promised, savouring the setting more and more, especially because he knew that much his mate enjoyed it, too. He stood up and pulled off his remaining clothes. Then he disappeared into the bathroom and took the big mirror from the wall.

  
When he came back, his lover looked like a frightened kitten, eyeing the new item with confusion. The warrior grinned and arranged the mirror at the end of their bed.

  
“I show you, what a wanton slut you really are,” he murmured and loosened Thorin's bonds from the bed frame, but kept his hands tied together. He easily manhandled the intimidated dwarf, pulling him into his lap. He spread the other one's legs with his own, until they got a good view at their reflected groins.

  
The prince whimpered again, unable to look away from their arousing mirror image, drinking in his own flushed face and overexcited body. His cock was hard and leaking and his balls throbbed, the silver rings around them shone brightly, preventing him from cumming without permission. His hole twitched whenever Dwalin's cock brushed over it.

  
“You know, there are dwarves who are great smiths or jeweller or fighters ... and then there are dwarves like you. Wanton whores with greedy holes, who always beg to be fucked and used. Be glad that you are at least good for something,” the warrior explained and spread his lover's cheeks to present his tiny, puckered entrance.

  
Thorin had never been so hard without touching his cock. This was hot to death. Four month ago he would had been too unsure of himself to enjoy such cruel words, always hearing his grandfather's spiteful voice in his head. But now with Dwalin by his side he was proud, that he could satisfy his mate in bed.

  
The prince squirmed in his lover's lap and tried to buck his hips, silently begging for some friction before he found back into his role, moaned lowly, “Master, please. What happens to me?”

  
The warrior only smirked and took a vial of oil from the nightstand, lubricating his fingers. He teased his lover's twitching hole for a few moments, before he shoved one digit inside without any resistance. His little minx had prepared himself, making sure that Dwalin wouldn't hurt him by accident. The older dwarf smiled proudly and trusted deeper into the willing body, finding his kitten's sweet spot.

  
Thorin screamed hoarsely, when his prostate was stimulated and groaned in pleasure as a second finger joined the first. He watched impatiently how his hole was stretched, until he was fucked by three thick digits.

  
“Ooh master ... this feels so ... soooo good. ... Please, don't ... don't stop,” he panted.

  
“Like I said, you are a natural whore. Only a real slut would enjoy this so much,” Dwalin rasped. He was as affected as his lover from their play. His erection was hard as steel, longing for his mate's tight heat.

  
Suddenly the fingers were withdrawn and Thorin was pushed from the lap. The young dwarf landed on his knees with his arse high in the air and sobbed when a hard cock was shoved deep into him.

  
The warrior hissed, when he felt the walls clenching around his dick, gripping him tightly. If he moved now, he would harm his lover.

  
“Please, master ... it hurts ... please too much,” the prince whimpered and tensed his muscles even more. He yelped at a sharp but playful slap on his bottom.

  
Dwalin growled, “Do you want to displease me, boy?”

  
“No! No, I want to please you, master. I swear. But ... but please I don't know ... I'm begging you show me how to please you. Don't send me to a brothel. I want to be a good boy ... your whore, master. Only yours,” Thorin choked.

  
“Relax your bottom, little slut. Don't fight me. Yes ... yeessss ... that's a good boy. Accept that you ... you are mine. My. Greedy. Little. Whore,” the warrior groaned, immediately trusting deep and hard, when he felt that the tension abated. He came into his willing princeling just a few moments later, too excited from their play to last longer.

  
At first the younger dwarf sighed happily at the feeling of hot cum, flooding his channel. But when the flaccid cock slipped out of his lose hole, he protested weakly. He was still hard and slowly moved his tied hands towards his erection. But one stern look from Dwalin stopped him and he whimpered, “Please, master.”

  
“Not yet, boy. First you need another lesson. I want your arse up in the air,” the warrior ordered and smiled satisfied, when Thorin hastily presented him his bottom.  
The prince waited nervously and gulped at the sight of their toys. One of the polished wooden butt plug was almost as big as his mate's cock and the prince moaned in pleasure, when it slowly invaded his body.

  
“Now fuck yourself, little whore, nice and slow,” Dwalin ordered again. “Yes that's it. Just like that. Let me hear you. I love to hear how greedy and wanton my slut is.” One by one he used all their toys on Thorin, driving the other dwarf crazy with lust.

  
But even when his desires made him dizzy, his little kitten obeyed every command, fucking himself agonisingly slow and deep or hard and fast, clenching and relaxing his arse as directed. All the time he moaned, screamed and begged for Dwalin's cock, to be used again like a good whore, watching his own debauched behaviour in the mirror.

  
Finally his lover showed mercy and impaled him roughly on his hard dick. The prince sobbed gratefully, when he was finally allowed to cum, thanking his mate again and again in a raspy voice.

  
He moaned dozily, when Dwalin tenderly washed his groin and well-used bottom and was already fast asleep when the warrior put away the mirror and toys.

  
The older dwarf gently embraced and caressed his princeling. He smiled, when Thorin snuggled deeper into his warm body, purring softly in his sleep. Not for the first time he thanked Mahal for such an enticing gift. Then he closed his eyes, too.


End file.
